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User blog:Lasifer/15 Years Later - A Game of Cards
"It's kind of funny..." Two men sit across from one another in a dark, bleak room. Little light shines in from a small window. The men holding cards in front of their faces. One man attempts to converse with the other as he lays down a 3 of Spades on the cold steel table in front of the two. "What is?" The other man replies, revealing a 9 of Spades on the table. "Seeing you in here, of all people. Out there you were on top of the fuckin' world, but one, just one dumb mistake and you end up in here with me of all people. You, you're on my level in here, pal-o." 6 of Spades on the table. "That's simply not true." 8 of Diamonds. "Is it? Is it not true? Seems pretty damn true to me. We're both in orange jumpsuits here, sharing the same stupid schedule, eating the same shitty food. It's true, buddy, you're just in denial. Accept it." 10 of Spades. "I think you're the one in denial. No matter where you go, you'll always be a sub-human, a filthy degenerate who is nothing but a nuisance to those you come across." 7 of Spades. "Accept that." "Think that all you want, buddy. Hell, we were similar out there." Jack of Spades. "We were, and still are, nothing alike." 6 of Hearts. "Trust is something that both destroyed us in the long run, but, come to think of it, you may be right, we are different in one, crucial way." "And what would that be?" "I'll be the one seeing the sun first." The man lays down his final card. "Ace of Spades. Flush. I win." ---- The sound of knuckle knocking on wood echoes throughout the dark Los Angeles street, only malfunctioning street lamps brighten the area, flickering on and off constantly. Knocking echoes again after minutes of silent. The door opens, light shines around the man answering, brightening the street only for a flash, the knocking man quickly entering, the door closing behind him. The man answering the door smiled and turned away from the other man quickly, walking down a short hall into the "Spencer." The knocking man follows the man, speaking in a thick German accent. "Ralf." Spencer replies, speaking in a Cockney British accent. "We have business to talk, the syndicate." Ralf and Spencer reach the end of the hall, the latter walking into the kitchen and pouring two glasses of wine, handing the second glass to Ralf. "What of it, Ralf?" "Everyone we have so far, they're rookies." "You and I were once rookies, Ralf. Everyone starts somewhere." "The people we have, they're just shit out of luck gangbangers. We need more experienced men." "Can't you get some of your MachtWaffe pals on board?" "Derk's arrested, Gerald's in Mexico, still working with OV. Everyone else is too latched onto it to want to leave." "Ah, Omnia Venena. Lloyd died just this past month, you don't think that might change soon?" "It may, I don't know. I'll see if I can get in contact with him." "That assault changed everything, I tell you. Surprised I survived it." "You were there?" "That I was. Probably shouldn't have told you that, maybe I'm just a bit too tipsy. But that damn assault, because of it those biker fucks have complete control in the U.S., and those United Crime cunts have control back home and pretty much all of bloody Europe. The Bratva ain't very friendly as of late." "Vipers?" "Pretty boy Salasco got whacked recently, their plans seem to be to move up north, less competition in California, perhaps." "That is if the bikers don't have plans for them." "Precisely. I have my connections, you have yours, recruit who you can." "Will do boss." "Now, I need to get some sleep. I have an old friend I think I need to visit." Category:Blog posts